


Pursuit of Happiness

by princessdi



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Angst and Drama, Austro-Prussian War, Blood and Violence, Drama, Enemies, Historical Hetalia, Historical References, M/M, Mentioned Russia (Hetalia), Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Power Play, Relationship Study, Seven Years' War, Silesian Wars, Subtext, Swordfighting, Tension, Unhealthy Relationships, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Tension, War, even if the author doesn't ship it (aka eat your heart out pruaus fans), swordfighting your enemy is something that can be so homoerotic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23784580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessdi/pseuds/princessdi
Summary: Two times Prussia and Austria kill each other and one time they didn't.
Relationships: Austria & Prussia (Hetalia), Austria/Prussia (Hetalia)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	1. Mollwitz

_Mollwitz, 1741._

Prussia never felt more alive than times like these. The smell of gunpowder clung to him while smoke from the cannons obscured his vision. Adrenaline was pumping hot through his veins, hot enough that he couldn’t feel the bite of the cold April air. He kept barking orders at his men, galloping up and down the line atop his horse. So enraptured was he in this task that he paid no mind to the fact that his king had fled the battlefield. For now, achieving victory was the only thing that mattered.

Despite the chaos – or, perhaps, because of it – his men had managed to seize the upper hand. All no longer appeared lost. The earlier stumbles would not destroy him.

When he took his place besides General Schwerin, that’s when Prussia spotted him. His sights set on his target. Yes, he’d felt his presence the whole time. Now, at last, his opponent had the courage to show himself on the field.

“General, take hold of my men.”

Without waiting for a response, Prussia spurred his horse forward. He cursed the beast, willing it to move faster than its legs allowed. He unsheathed his sword, bearing it at the ready. So close now, so close he was beginning to see the violets of the other man’s eyes. Anticipation filled him. He shuddered.

“ _Östereich_!” Prussia yelled the name like a battle cry. He lunged, surprising the Austrian and knocking him off his horse. They rolled in the snow, kicking and biting at each other, anything possible to cause the other harm.

Austria managed to squirm his way out of the entanglement. He leapt to his feet, sword in hand. There was an indescribable combination of hatred and disgust swirling in his eyes. He sliced his sword, aiming at Prussia’s chest, only to be blocked. His movements were fluid. He acted with the singular purpose in mind of destroying this little pest.

“You’re an aging empire, Roderich. All things must end. Stop trying to defy nature.” Every flick of his sword required no thoughts. Prussia was an old pro; battling was second nature. In fact, he even appeared to be _enjoying_ this, much to Austria’s irritation. Still, his red eyes glowed with intensity and an inextinguishable flame.

He was being bated. Austria understood this and, in normal times, would have nothing to say to such weak efforts. “Your will and your ambitions are _not_ nature.” These weren’t normal times. With a satisfied little smile, he managed to land a cut along Prussia’s arm. Never had he enjoyed the sight of another’s blood so much as he did this. “You bite the hand that feeds you. Are you ungrateful for all I’ve given? I had never been so generous to the others!”

“I owe you nothing. Everything I have, I earned it for myself.” Prussia smirked. “Just as I’m earning this prize.” He hadn’t noticed the cut on his arm, nor did he feel his blood sliding down it. All he felt was the fury growing inside of him. He swiped at Austria’s unguarded legs, striking his thigh. He was always a master at low blows. “You’ve gotten rusty. You can tell the little master fights all his battles bottom up from the bedroom now.”

Austria allowed himself a chuckle. “This is what goes for ‘earning’ among your people? Fitting for such a barbarous lot. This is nothing short of transparent thievery. You’re earning nothing here but infamy.” He cursed his foe, cursed how everything with him must delve into the personal realm. He aimed a series of well-timed blows. His rage only increased at having each one parried. “You speak of that which you know nothing about. Don’t speak of gossip when what’s said about you is far worse.”

“Fame, infamy, what’s the difference? It’s all the same to me.” Prussia chuckled, proud of his wit. “You’re right. I have no need to resort to petty gossip when I know the truth about you, Roderich. And the truth is more reprehensible than any lie I could come up with.” The flame in his eyes reached a fever-pitch; sheer contempt filled his every expression and gesture. Prussia lunged and their swords collided, each one trying to overpower the other. “You’re not fit to rule.”

Austria winced, frustrated by the sudden display of strength. Wasn’t he the more powerful state? Shouldn’t he be able to easily shove him off? Why, then, did this present such a challenge? “You’re no more fit than me. You would herald us into catastrophe.” He held Prussia’s gaze and shuddered at what he found there. “The day I would recognize you as my superior will be a day that never comes. Heed to my authority and I may grant you mercy.”

“I heed to no one.” Seamlessly, Prussia shoved the other man off, causing him to stumble. He used his momentary advantage to cut Austria’s wrist, causing him to instinctively drop his sword. While his opponent was distracted by the pain, he flung the sword out of reach and pointed his own menacingly. “You want curtesy? Here, I’ll give you one. Surrender or suffer the consequences.”

What was there to do? Austria glanced back to the battlefield. They were far from the thick of it, away from the majority of the Imperial Army, away from anywhere Roderich could hope to find an ally. Cowardice disgusted him; he would not run away and have his honor besmirched. Cool defiance filled him as he lifted his chin to hold Gilbert’s gaze.

“To surrender to you would be a disgrace.”

Before he could even fathom what was happening, he felt the sting of metal through his abdomen. There had been no chance to move, to fight back. He had been impaled before he had even a second to react. 

“Learn to make way for the new order, or this won’t be the last time you fall to me.” Gilbert’s breath stung hot against the Austrian’s ear. He twisted the sword in, causing Roderich to involuntarily gasp. He violently pulled the blade out, smiling like wolf at the damage he’d caused. “You’re much more likeable when you’re helpless. For my own sake, I might have to keep you this way.”

Roderich had never felt so frigid. Why did death always make one’s mind so loud? He tried to focus on what Gilbert was saying, then cursed himself for even bothering. Blood pooled up in his mouth. He spat it out and took a grim satisfaction in having it land on Gilbert’s cheek. “You’re a villain. The others will realize that soon. And you’ll…you won’t last for long after that. You’ll be…crushed.” It took effort to speak, effort that would’ve been better spent on trying to breathe. It felt too important not to threaten this wretched creature before him, too important to not get in one last taunt.

Mercy. Mercy was Gilbert driving his blade through Austria’s heart. “That’s enough!” He hissed. He did not wish to be threatened, did not wish to be forced to consider any repercussions for his ambitions. This time, he only removed his weapon once Roderich went cold and the sounds of the Imperial drums could be heard leaving the field. He didn’t need to worry about the future for Prussia had arrived and he would no longer be ignored.


	2. Kunersdorf

_Kunersdorf, 1759._

Austria prided himself on being one of the more civilized nations, who didn’t thrill at the slaughter of his rivals and only viewed it as the occasional necessity. But even he, normally so dispassionate to bloodshed, could enjoy how the fields were stained red with the blood of those who opposed him. There was nothing more righteous than watching his men mow down Prussian’s with impunity. He grinned, wide and toothy, at his good fortune.

Russia stood besides him, watching the battle take place with an air of indifference. “Odd for him to not have made an appearance yet. Do you think he’s fallen?” He spoke as if he was asking when Roderich believed it would rain.

“No. I know he hasn’t. I can sense his presence.” Despite his apparent surety, anxiety still gnawed at Austria. What if Russia was right, what if he _had_ fallen? How would he react if one of his own men stole the glory that belonged to him and him alone? His eyes desperately scanned the battlefield.

At last, he found him. Prussia was in the center of the fray, shouting commands at his men and firing his musket in quick succession. Even from so far away, Austria could sense his frantic energy, could feel it pouring off him.

Without a word, he spurred his horse to action, ordering his troops out of his way. It was only at the last moment did Prussia notice him, so distracted was he by the ruin befalling him. Austria managed to slice his side with his sword, locking eyes with his foe. Once away from the thick of things, he dismounted, armed and ready.

It took a minute, but eventually Prussia stumbled his way over. He was worse for wear, ragged from the various wounds lining his body. It wouldn’t be a fair fight. Austria smiled, acknowledging that truth. It didn’t need to be fair, it only needed to be glorious retribution.

“I could shoot you and this would be over with.” Prussia tapped his musket appreciatingly. He never looked away from his foe. “One shot, that’s all it takes.”

There was no question that he would do no such thing. It would be a kill with no satisfaction, an action reserved only for the faceless hordes of an opposing army. “Perhaps it would be over for me, but not for you.” Austria pointed his sword at him. “ _En garde_.” 

Prussia tossed the gun away and drew his sword. Despite his shoddy physical state, he made the first move. He lunged, barely hiding a wince as he landed on the leg that an earlier bullet went through. He attempted a blow at Austria’s chest, but was successfully blocked. For once, he was silent during a fight. This one required all his focus if he was to have any chance.

“I must say, I’m almost impressed with how long you’ve managed to last. Truly astounding considering you’ve managed to alienate everyone on the continent to the point of open animosity or blind-eye neutrality.” Austria was content to play defense, for now. Let the Prussian tire himself out, he was lagging enough as it was. There could be little time left. “Did you really believe providence would always be on your side?”

If he was smart, Prussia would’ve remained silent. He would’ve pretended to let the insults slide off his back. But, at least in this matter, he was a fool. “I’ve got more left to me still. Don’t count your victories before they happen.” He hissed in pain. A blow had landed on the damage to his shoulder he’d received from the Cossacks.

His words were ignored. Austria was in his own thoughts, wanting to freely say what came to him. “Think of it. All this could have been avoided if you remembered your place. This misfortune, this bloodshed, all of it you’ve brought upon yourself.” A cool contempt filled his eyes. “Yet you think nothing of it, do you? All you strivers are the same. Your ambitions compel you to destroy anything at the cost of everything.” Tired of defending himself, he lashed out. He slashed into Prussia’s rib cage, satisfied with the agony it brought.

Prussia mustered up all his rage, all his fury. He began attacking rapidly, slicing and cutting without concern to strategy. He needed something, _anything_ , he did to cause Roderich misery. “Remember my place? For what? More shitty concessions by the Little Master? All you could ever spare me were the scraps off your plate! Do you understand how many lives Brandenburg and I sacrificed to maintain your perch atop everything? None of it means anything to you, none of it ever has!” He landed a good one, cutting deeply into Roderich’s cheek. There went the pretty boy looks. “Why should I bow to you for nothing in return? If you can take whatever you please and face no consequences then, goddammit, I can do the same! You’re no better than me!” His breathing was belabored, he had been yelling the whole time.

Austria took a step back, allowed a moment to wipe the blood from his face. He narrowed his eyes, irritation filling him at this insolence. “Your ungratefulness rears its ugly head again. Have you always been this unable to control yourself or does your jealousy make you reckless? Ah, I suppose that’s not a question that needs answering considering the circumstances.” He raised his sword, furious energy filling him. “What more recognition do you want? Do you wish for me to tear myself apart and gift you every part of me? Have me lie down and present myself to the Prussian vulture?” He moved with precision, with grace, with determination Gilbert had never seen from him. “Yes, let me grant you it all! Take Salzburg, take Bohemia, take Tyrol! While you’re at it, why not rip Vienna from my chest and trample upon it too!” He crossed their blades and violently smacked the sword out Gilbert’s hands, disarming him. Roderich stepped on the fallen weapon to prevent it from being re-seized. He stared down his nose at Gilbert. “Granting you a pathetic little kingdom turned out to be more trouble than it was worth. It was supposed to have you forever in my debt. It seems I’ve birthed a monster instead.”

These were insults that could not be passed. Defiance filled Gilbert. The day would never come where he would ever allow anyone, much less this pampered aristocrat, to speak to him in such a way. Words began formulating in his mind. Yes, centuries of grievances were bubbling up within him. Where were all the territories he’d been promised for assistance in various wars? Where were the lands they were supposed to have gained through dowries and inheritances? Why did all rewards seem to flow to Bavaria or Hanover or, more disgustingly, to Saxony? All that had been stolen from them seemed to Gilbert equal in price to many Silesias, Roderich should be grateful he had only one to lose. He opened his mouth ready to let loose.

With a soft thud, Gilbert’s head fell to the floor. Roderich sheathed his sword. He knelt and lifted his fallen foe by the hair. “My apologies, I couldn’t bear to hear more of your grandstanding. One can only stand the sound of your voice for so long.” He noticed his hands, the white gloves now stained red with their shared blood. Deciding there was a metaphor in that, he shut Gilbert’s eyes. He tossed the head away as he returned to his horse. Roderich didn’t need a trophy; it was rewarding enough to know Gilbert would be left for the carrion circling around.


	3. Königgrätz

_Königgrätz, 1866._

The day had turned into a complete wash. Austria gazed down at his men, at the disorder before him, and cursed his fortune. They had so firmly held the initiative, only to lose it in a series of misfortunes. He tried to analyze the mistakes that had been made but found it pointless to do while the battle still raged on. He tried to muster up some hope that all was not yet lost. He sighted Prussian reinforcements approaching and sighed. Hope was meaningless.

He watched the fire blaze in the distance. It seemed now to him like an ill omen, as much as he detested the belief in such frivolous things. Sighing, he commanded his horse to a trot. Best to retreat back to camp where he could excorticate his generals for their follies. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed a black stallion charging towards him. Before being able to react, he was knocked off his horse by whatever was catapulted from the beast.

“Must you always be engaging me this way?” Austria shoved Prussia off him, dusting his jacket off. “This routine has gotten rather stale.”

By the time he was speaking, Prussia was already back on his feet. His sword was drawn and he was in a ready stance. With curiosity, Austria assessed that it was a new one, one he was not intimately acquainted with. He wanted to ask what happened to the old but thought better of it.

Prussia cleared his throat, snapping Austria back to attention. “Are you only going to stare at me? Get up and fight!” There was an indescribable emotion burning within him.

“I’ll have you know, I was retreating.” Still, Austria complied and unsheathed his sword with an eye roll. “What compels you to seek out this fight, _Preußen_?”

The only answer he received was a strike across his chest. He grimaced, blocking the other blows as Prussia tried to land them.

“You’re weak.” Prussia spoke as if this were a clinical diagnosis, but his expression conveyed a deep distaste for the man before him. “What happened to all your strength? This shouldn’t be as easy as it is.”

_There_ was a question he didn’t want to hear, especially from this source. Austria tried to come up with a sufficient lie and was dismayed to only find the truth. “You have no right to ask me such things.” He knew that wouldn’t satisfy Prussia’s intrigue or spare him from condemnation, but it was the best he could offer under the circumstances. He was much prouder than he should’ve been at parrying an incoming attack.

Prussia scowled, clearly unhappy at the response given. “I’ll ask what I wish.” He successfully aimed a low blow, cutting into Austria’s thigh. “You’re not even trying. You’ve been pitiful throughout this damn war, Roderich. You’re incapable of leading your men into battle, much less all of Germany.”

“Does this count as not trying?” Austria summoned all his frustrations into hacking into Prussia’s shoulder. It was a childish antic, but it appeased him greatly. “You have no experience in this realm. The only respect you’ve won from the others is that which you can gain through force. Your ego makes you strive for heights you can’t handle.”

“And you think they respect you? We’ve got long memories; we know how you pick off the weaker states for yourself. You’re too selfish to leave any for the rest of us.” Prussia deftly blocked an attempt to chop at his neck. He barked out a laugh. “You almost sound worried for me. Afraid I can’t handle it? It must not be too difficult; you’ve been mangling power for centuries now.”

Austria huffed and side-stepped away from an incoming blow. “Don’t sound so resentful. I invited you to the feast often enough. We’ve been sharing this authority for years now, no need to wantonly toss me aside. You treat your whore better than that.”

“You invited me _after_ you had gotten the choicest bits for yourself. That’s not exactly gracious behavior.” A flicker of exhaustion passed across Prussia’s face. If he didn’t know him so intimately, Austria wouldn’t have noticed. “It’s either you or me. We’ll be at each other’s throats for eternity unless one of us concedes. I certainly won’t be able to stop myself and I know you lack all restraint.” Their blades locked, both trying to overpower the other.

“What? Grown tired of this dance? You’re the one who initiated it and continues to do so! Who’s been the aggressor in every war? You expect me to not counter your offenses?” Austria forced all his strength into his weapon, frustrated at how his foe refused to be bothered by it. “This is the path you’ve chosen for us. If you won’t see it through to the end, then I will!”

“This is really what you’d prefer? And here I thought we were beginning to get along.” Despite his bravado, Prussia seemed unbothered by it all. He flashed a lupine smile. “This madness consumes you, doesn’t it? Admit it, you would be lost without this, without me. _That’s_ why you fight so much.”

A cold fire burned within Austria. His eyes narrowed to slits. “I will grant you no such thing. I fight because you’ve provided me with no other options over these years. Look what you’ve done to us. The only way we can have an honest conversation is when we’re at each other’s throats! I would rid myself of you the first chance I got, but we’ve been cursed to this infernal lockstep so I might as well keep up appearances until one of us blinks!”

“So, you _are_ tired. I’m something of a gentleman now. Allow me to end it.” With a grunt of effort, Prussia pushed asides the other man. As Austria stumbled, he aimed a series of well-timed blows at his chest and dominant arm. Austria’s sword dropped to the ground and was kicked out of reach of its owner, who himself was knocked down. The tip of Prussia’s sword was pointed as his neck and a boot to the chest kept him pinned.

Both men were breathing heavily. If it wasn’t for concern for his neck, Roderich would attempt an escape. The blade pressed into his skin. “You’ve gotten rusty.” Gilbert spoke with pity.

“You say that every time.” Roderich tried to affix a bold and daring expression but found it difficult from his position. He sighed, accepting the futility of the moment. “Where will it be this time? If I may make a request, I prefer to _not_ be impaled. I don’t appreciate having to see you gloat for longer than I must.”

The sound of drums filled the air. The Imperial forces hastily retreated. The battle was over.

“What a surprise, I win again.” There was no malice in Gilbert’s words, only pride in himself and his troops. He stared down at the man beneath him and began laughing. The sudden shift in mood and the exuberance on his face reminded Roderich of when they were children.

The sword was removed from his throat. “Mercy, just this once.” Gilbert shushed Roderich when he tried to speak. “Not for you, but for Ludwig’s sake. I don’t need him to think I caused you undue harm on his behalf.”

Confused, Roderich pushed himself up. He didn’t believe that this was an action done purely for Ludwig’s benefaction. Then what was the aim? Things were never so simple. “What an honorable savage you are. I’m sure Ludwig will feel relief at your one saintly action towards me.” It was said with no emphasis, no passion. He was going through the motions at this point, unsure for once of where they would lead him.

The sword made its return in his face. “Don’t test my generosity. You hesitate any longer and I may change my mind. Retreat with your men.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Roderich whistled, calling his horse, and mounted it. He spared one final look at Gilbert. They held each other’s gaze, neither one willing to break. At last, he tipped his cap and galloped away, the whole time bothered by this fateful meeting and desperate for its meaning. He could only think of Gilbert’s incessant questioning over whether this routine had become tiresome.

Perhaps Gilbert found it so. If that was the case, Roderich found his worries furthered.


End file.
